Page 150 of The Dixon Rule

“You don’t have to lay it on so thick. He already believes we’re dating,” I mumble against his lips, although I’m not really complaining. Shane’s kisses melt my brain.

“I can’t believe we don’t get to fuck tonight,” he mumbles back.

If it were up to Shane’s libido, we would be having sex at least twice a day. Again, no complaints from me. I’ve never had sex this good in my life.

I lock up after he leaves and return to tackle my nightly skincare routine. This time I don’t rope Will into it, but he stands in the bathroom doorway, watching me in the mirror.

“You and Lindley are still going strong, huh?”

“Who would have thought, right?”

“I mean, no one.” Will snorts. “You gave him so much shit last year.”

“Yeah, ’cause he’s obnoxious. That hasn’t changed.”

“Exactly. That hasn’t changed. So what’s different now?”

“His dick,” I confess. “I’ve fallen into his dicksand.”

Will nods solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

Once my face is nicely moisturized, I set Will up on the couch with clean sheets, two pillows, and a thick blanket. Despite what some people might think, I do respect Shane enough to not share a bed with his teammate. Fake relationship or not, we’re still exclusive friends with benefits, and I wouldn’t be thrilled if he was sleeping with another woman in his bed, even if they were platonic. But that’s because I’m a possessive bitch. Even over my temporary man.

“Thanks again,” Will says gruffly. “I’m sorry I keep imposing on you.”

“It’s not an imposition, I promise.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and then go to my bedroom, climbing under the covers.

I can’t fall asleep, though. Because…goddamn it, I want to have sex. I’ve grown so accustomed to a Shane orgasm before bed, and now my body is humming beneath my duvet.

Around eleven thirty, I still can’t sleep, and now I’m thirsty, so I leave my room and go to the kitchen. As I tiptoe past the couch, I peek at Will, who’s passed out on his back, snoring softly. He’s completely out.

I pour myself a glass of water, and as I lean against the counter to drink, my gaze once again travels toward Will. Maybe there’s no harm in a quickie. I can just hop next door, get off, and come back. Will won’t even notice. He’s dead to the world.

Back in my bedroom, I pull out my phone and text Shane.

ME:

Changed my mind. Quickie?

SHANE:

Thank God. I couldn’t sleep. I was about to jerk off.

SHANE:

I’ll come over.

ME:

But Will’s here.

SHANE:

Yeah, and my bedroom wall is right behind your living room where he’s sleeping.

We don’t have to use your bed, I start to type, but he’s already followed up with, On my way.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

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